


A Storm On The Horizon

by orphan_account



Category: game of thrones
Genre: Cuddling, Cute, Fighting, Fluff, Hair Pulling, Half-Sibling Incest, Hate Sex, Incest, Lady Catelyn is a bitch to Jon, Light Bondage, Light Sexual Abuse, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Robb likes Jon's Lips, Romance, Rough Sex, Sad, Sex, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry, Smut, So's Sansa, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Underage Smoking, mentions of abuse, triggering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:01:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3428717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb wakes up one morning with knots in his stomach. All the Stark children can feel it: something's about to change. The same day their father announces that their estranged half-brother Jon Snow will be coming to live with them following the death of his mother. The minute Robb sees Jon, he's in love. Who couldn't love that curly haired, pouty lipped bastard?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knots

Breakfast at the Stark household was always a very noisy and busy affair. Ned and Catelyn were always the first ones awake. They'd take the opportunity of the rarely quiet house to sit downstairs in the living room with cups of coffee, watching the morning news and basking in each other's company before their many children began to awaken. Ned always said that those were some of the few quiet moments he had nowadays. Rickon was the next one up. He'd come running down the stairs, his light brown hair always a tangled mess. He'd call his greetings before darting to the kitchen to rummage up some breakfast. Every morning Catelyn would halfheartedly call after him to keep out of the sugary cereals but it was always ignored. Sansa would be the next one awake. She always claimed the shower before anyone else could take the shower. Sansa always took a good forty minutes to an hour to get ready. She'd primp and prep until the very last second and then she'd run downstairs as Robb blared the horn incessantly and she'd climb into the car, looking perfect like she always did. Robb was the next to wake up. He'd begrudgingly drag himself out of his warm bed to go wake up Arya. If no one got her up she'd sleep the entire day away. Once he managed to pry his little sister out of bed she'd wander downstairs and join Rickon in his search for breakfast. Then he'd go downstairs and make sure Bran was conscious as well and getting dressed. Being big brother to four other siblings was a taxing job. He'd always shout at Sansa to move faster, but that was like telling the glaciers to melt faster. Robb would use the bathroom in his mother and father's room to shave and get dressed in the stiff uniform their school forced them into. He'd run down the stairs and call greetings to his parents. Ned was usually getting ready for work at this point. Robb would scarf down a quick breakfast before he began the difficult task of herding his siblings into his father's van so he could drive them all to school. Catelyn would try and help while simultaneously fussing over their uniforms and that Sansa was again running behind the others. After finally managing to get everyone in the car, Robb then had to transport a car full of bickering siblings to school. It was practically like a full time job.

But when Robb woke up on this specific morning, he felt like something was wrong. His gut was knotted up and he felt like there was a storm cloud over his head. When he went to go wake up Arya, he was shocked to see that she was already awake and dressed in her uniform. He shrugged it off however and went to go get his own uniform on. He let out a frustrated groan and ran his fingers through his auburn locks when he saw the wrinkles in his white button up shirt. His uniform felt stiffer today, more itchy and uncomfortable. The bland gray tie he had tied around his neck seemed determined to strangle him, and the loose gray pants he wore with the black belt felt shittier than usual. He tried to brush this feeling off, but he couldn't get rid of it. When he went downstairs, his parents weren't down there; another thing to add to the list of reasons why something felt wrong today. When he entered the kitchen, Bran was hunched over his book at the counter, reading quietly to himself instead of teasing Arya and Rickon like he usually did. Arya was sitting on the counter and eating her oatmeal with a sullen expression. Even Rickon looked rather down today. Robb stood there for a moment before he slowly began to get himself a bowl of cornflakes.  
"Well good morning to everyone." Robb muttered sarcastically. Arya looked over at him with a look that could melt the flesh off of lesser men.   
"Oh shut up, Robb." Arya snipped as she stabbed her oatmeal viciously with her spoon. Robb arched a brow as he took a bite of his cereal. Hell, even the cereal tasted off. Silence filled the kitchen again as Robb chewed blandly on his mouthful of soggy cereal.  
"So you guys feel it too?" Bran suddenly asked, breaking the silence in the room. Robb swallowed and nodded.  
"Yeah, like something's off." Robb stated, the other three nodding.  
"I just feel like something bad's going to happen." Arya proclaimed through a mouthful of gray oatmeal. Bran nodded as he slowly closed his book.   
"I guess we'll have to see." he said solemnly. Robb chose to dump his cereal out into the sink. His stomach was in far too many knots for him to be trying to eat right now.  
It was like the weather was in tune with the Stark children and the ominous feeling of the day. The clouds hung gray and heavy in the sky, looking ready to burst and rain down upon them. A chilly wind was blowing and Robb could smell the rain to come. Sansa was on time today, but Robb could sense something wrong with his 16 year old sister. Today wasn't the day to press her, he knew. Everyone's nerves were so taught, they had their first silent car ride to school.

"Fuck, Talisa!" Robb grunted, his breathing heavy as he pushed his cock further into Talisa's mouth. He wished he could see her, but they didn't dare turn the lights on in the service closet. There was barely enough room for the two of them, but they'd managed. As soon as Talisa saw the tense look on Robb's face, she'd grabbed his hand and pulled him to their secret little spot. She hadn't said a word, she'd just read him perfectly as usual and dropped to her knees, taking his dick out of his pants and beginning to eagerly suck him off. The closet felt even smaller, like it was closing in on them. The only sounds were the sloppy sounds of Talisa sucking, Robb's heavy breaths and stifled groans. It didn't take him long to spill into her mouth and she eagerly swallowed. Robb knew that this ominous feeling truly meant something, for even after he had come, the knots were still in his stomach. Talisa wiped her mouth off and stood up as Robb put his cock away and ran his fingers through his hair.  
"Still stressed, babe?" Talisa asked softly as she wiped her hands off on her short gray skirt. Robb nodded honestly, looking at her with worried cerulean eyes.   
"Yeah... I just... I feel like something really bad is going to happen today..."

School was just as bad as Robb felt. He bombed a test, forgot his homework, and screwed up on at least three worksheets. Theon was trying to pick fights during lunch, and all of the Stark children were on edge and ready to snap at a moments notice. The car ride home from school was one of the most tense that Robb had to sit through. He parked in the driveway of their beachside home and the car was empty in seconds, all the children quiet and on edge. The feeling in Robb's stomach had only grown stronger as they got closer and closer home. He knew he might be being paranoid, but he just knew that something bad was going to happen when they walked through that door.   
And of course he was right.  
As the five children entered the house, they saw their father. He wasn't supposed to be home till half past five, and it was only two. He was seated on the couch in the large open living room, a strained look on his face. Robb saw his mother standing by the window, staring out with a cold expression. Her jaw was clenched tightly and Robb could tell from her red eyes that she'd been crying and his heart dropped. Why'd he always have to be right.  
"Children, come in here. We have to talk." Ned called to them. His voice was tired and ragged. Robb knew that this couldn't be good. The five slowly slunk nervously into the living room. Bran sat down on the couch beside his father, Rickon sitting beside his elder brother. Arya sprawled herself out on the carpet in front of her father and Sansa sat nervously on the loveseat across from the couch her father was seated on. Robb sat down in the armchair beside Sansa and eyed his father closely. Ned rubbed the scruff on his chin, a brooding look clearly printed on his face. The room was silent for a good moment before Ned cleared his throat. "I've heard from your brother." Catelyn let out a cold laugh at his words and Ned looked down. "I apologize, I've heard from your half-brother." Ned corrected himself. Robb felt his heart sink at the words.  
Robb never knew his half-brother Jon Snow. He'd heard plenty of stories about him. The boy was just a year younger than him. When his father had gone on a business trip, he'd had a drunken mistake with a bartender. Nine months later Jon Snow popped out. Catelyn had almost left Ned when he'd told her about it. There'd barely been contact between the two families in the past seventeen years. Jon knew his father, and occasionally called him. It'd been nearly two years since Robb had heard Jon mentioned. The last time Jon called Ned was about something with his mother. Catelyn had angrily grabbed the phone and told him not to call again unless it was an absolute emergency, then she'd hung up on him. Jon hadn't called his father since then. Robb had been sixteen at the time. On the rare occasions that Catelyn or Ned could be persuaded to speak of it, Catelyn would get angry and tell Robb what trash Jon's mother was, that her son must be just as bad as she was. Ned would never give details about Jon or his mother. Robb had never even seen a picture of what his half-brother looked like. Catelyn was much happier if they all pretended Jon didn't exist.   
"What about Jon?" Arya asked curiously. Arya didn't completely understand Catelyn's hatred of Jon, but she definitely knew it was rare for Jon to call the family.   
"Well... His mother passed last week, and he called me yesterday to tell me about it." Ned said slowly. Sansa looked a little sympathetic. Usually she sided with Catelyn that Jon had to be trash.  
"What happened to his mother?" she asked quietly.   
"Alcohol poisoning." Ned announced with a grimace. Robb heard his mother give a condescending chuckle at the words. Such a death only reaffirmed Catelyn's statements that the woman was trash. "The funeral's tomorrow, but after, he's got nowhere to go. His mother was his only family." Ned seemed to be beating around the bush and it was beginning to frustrate Robb. He just wished his father would spit it out already. "As he's got nowhere to stay... He'll be coming to stay with us." Ned informed them in a firm voice. Robb heard Catelyn suck in a breath, clearing biting back a scathing comment. There was a thick silence as they all sat in a bit of a shock.   
“He’s… He’s coming to live with us?” Bran suddenly asked with a rather confused expression. Ned nodded at his son.  
“But we don’t know him! Mother’s right about him, you know. He’s got to be complete trash!” Sansa wailed, looking horrified at the idea of having another brother around. Ned gave his daughter such a chilling stare that she slid back into her seat with a humiliated expression.  
“We don’t even know the boy…” Robb suddenly piped up, feeling his father’s eyes turn to him. He could also feel Catelyn’s piercing glare in the back of his head. He cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his seat. “What I mean is that none of us know him. You don’t even know him, Father.” Robb spoke politely, treading carefully. “I’m not going to say that he’ll be an amazing addition, but I don’t think we should judge him too quickly.” Robb said firmly as he shot Sansa a chastising stare to further her shame. Ned let out a deep breath and slowly nodded.  
“It’ll be an adjustment, but I want all of you to be welcoming to him. His mother just passed.” Ned reminded them and they all nodded obediently. Robb wasn’t too sure how welcoming Sansa and his mother would be, but his father would surely talk to them about it. Instead of the knots going away now that he knew what was wrong, they were still there and getting worse. All of them could feel it.  
The storm was just beginning.


	2. Deliver

Jon didn't think he'd feel like this after his mother's death. He thought he'd be more distraught, that he'd shed more tears. But he didn't. Instead he felt... numb. His mother wasn't exactly the most loving, so he couldn't bring himself to lament her passing, but he'd lost his mother. He wasn't too sure how to react to it all. He remembered her funeral clearly. He remembered standing there surrounded by the few of his mother's friends who'd bothered to actually show up. Oddly enough, the thing he was most focused on at the moment was the fact that the stiff black suit he was wearing was stifling beyond belief. As he'd sprinkled a handful of dirt over her coffin in the ground, he'd felt relief. And that relief had only grown stronger as he watched the dirt get piled on top of her. It was a relief to him to know that the woman who had made his life a living hell was gone for good.

He'd driven home to an empty house. It had been an eerie feeling to unlock the door and walk into their rundown apartment and just hear dead silence. Normally when he got home he'd hear his mother screaming at one of her boyfriend's over the phone. Her trashy music would be blasting loud enough to make the neighbors come complaining at all hours of the day.

So when Jon opened the door and the house was silent, it made his stomach twist sickeningly. He slowly set his keys down on the table and looked around at the trashed apartment. He hadn't bothered to clean up the mess his mother left behind when she died. Just days after her death he had called his father and persuaded him to let him come stay with him in California. Jon had no idea how he'd managed it. His father's wife hated Jon with a burning passion. Catelyn had never even met him. She simply hated him because of his mother. He didn't blame Catelyn. His mother was a filthy woman, she always had been. Jon, however, prided himself on rising above his status. He was one of the few teenagers in the ghettos of his Chicago city that was off the streets, doing well in school, and on the right track. Jon worked hard to get himself to where he was. He hadn't married into it like Catelyn had. He'd spent hours dedicated to making himself a better life. Now with his mother gone, Jon had the opportunity to follow that want.

The ebony haired beauty looked over at his few bags already packed, sitting on the couch. His flight was leaving early the next morning. He'd be leaving Chicago at about four in the morning, and he wasn't set to land in California until nearly twelve hours later. He only had three bags with him. Two of them contained all the clothes that he had, and the third contained his few personal belongings; his favorite books, an old necklace of his mother's, and his knife that his mother had given him for his sixteenth birthday. It was one of the nicest things Jon had it. The handle was decorated with an elaborately carved wolf, and the blade was polished by Jon practically every day. His mother always used to tell him that his father was a wolf. Jon hadn't really understood until he was a little older, understanding that as the Starks were an old family, they still had their sigil from generations before, and theirs was a wolf. Wolves were fearless, proud creatures. Jon wondered if that was what his father was like.

Jon opened his pack of cigarettes and took one out, putting the filter between his pouting lips before he brought his lighter to the tip. The only sound that filled the dead silent apartment was the slow inhale as Jon took the toxic chemicals into his body, then him slowly exhaling a cloud of pale smoke from his mouth. He slowly sank into one of the dining chairs and slumped back, his gray eyes staring off into space as he absentmindedly took hits off his cigarette. He wondered what his father would be like. He wasn't looking forward to meeting his wife. The last time Jon had called Ned was to ask him for help with his mother when she had gone missing for nearly a week on a drinking binge. He hadn't even been able to ask him, for as soon as Ned's wife realized it was Jon, she'd snatched the phone and told Jon to only call if it was an absolute emergency, a matter of life and death, then hung up on him.

Jon wondered what it'd be like to meet his father for the first time. He'd only seen pictures of his father on the internet. He remembered being shocked when he was fourteen years old, reading an article on the computer about the new governor and it'd included a picture of the governor and a man beside him: his closest confidant and adviser the article stated. So when Jon read the article and saw the name Ned Stark, he was in shock. His mother always told him drunkenly about what a great man his father was, but Jon hadn't known that his father was such a prolific man. Over the years he'd seen articles on his father and his family. Every time Jon saw pictures of his father, his huge home, his children, it felt like a knife in Jon's chest. He looked at the Stark children, his brothers and sisters. Never was there any mention of Ned's bastard in any of the articles. Jon had been swept under the rug. No one even knew he existed. Jon began to resent his father for doing this to him and his mother, knocking her up and leaving her. That was up until he was fifteen and he got a call from his father on New Years. He could still remember the day perfectly. He'd been in his room on the bed when his mother came in with the phone. When he'd asked her who it was, she'd stared him dead in the eyes as she held the phone out towards him and said, 'it's your father'. That was an awkward phone call, that was for sure. Jon remembered how sick he felt when he heard his father's voice for the first time, how his father had to pause for a moment and try to remember how old he was now. That was when he'd told Jon to call him if he ever needed help. Then Jon had said goodnight and hung up the phone. Over the course of the next three years, Jon spoke to his father a total of four times. They never talked about themselves, conversations were always brief and strained. He remembered calling one time after nearly a year of no contact and how when his father heard him speak, Ned commented that his voice had gotten so much deeper. It just made Jon that much more aware of how absent Ned was in his life. Ned could barely keep how old he was straight. He didn't even know what Jon looked like.

Jon ashed out his cigarette and forced himself to stop worrying. Everything was going to be alright. Ned had sounded sympathetic and kind when he invited Jon to come stay with them in California. Jon tried to think of what he was going to say when he met his father and siblings for the first time. Would it be awkward? Would they welcome him, or push him away? Jon had never known what it was like to have siblings. He was his mother's only child. He didn't want to think about how badly this could go, so he forced himself to begin getting ready for his short nap before he had to wake up and get to the airport. Everything would work out, he just had to trust that this wouldn't go as badly as the rest of his life...

 

The day of Jon's arrival was a tense one. The children had gotten home from school and were instantly berated by their mother. Catelyn lectured Rickon on leaving his dishes out, Bran for not putting his books away, Arya for tracking mud in the house, Sansa for leaving her and Arya's bathroom a mess, and Robb for not pressing his uniform for tomorrow. All the Stark children were instantly on edge after their mother's viscous lecture. Robb did understand his mother's distress. His entire life Jon had been there to remind her of her husband's unfaithfulness. She had never gotten the chance to move past her husband's transgression. Jon's life was the product of Robb's awful mistake, and now he'd be under the same roof, living with them as one of them. Robb wondered what the press would have to say when they saw Jon with the Stark family. It wouldn't be anything nice, that was for sure.

Robb stripped out of his uniform and tossed the dirty one into his laundry bin before he changed into a flannel shirt and jeans. He ran his fingers through his curly hair and sighed as he went to go see how his sisters were holding up. Arya had been eager about the addition to the family, as had Bran and Rickon, but Sansa had been rather quiet about all of this.

Robb tapped on Sansa and Arya's door, waiting to hear his sister's soft voice before he let himself in. He saw Sansa sitting at her small vanity table, carefully applying chapstick to her heart shaped, pink lips. His sister was the spitting image of his mother. Her hair was red as fire, skin as pale snow. She'd changed into a light airy dress, and Jon could see from the mess on Arya's side of the room that his other sister had changed and promptly ran outside. Sansa smiled at Robb as he came in. "Robb, what is it?" she asked in that sweet voice she always used when it was apparent that her brother had something something serious to talk about. Robb sighed and walked over to Sansa's bed, dropping onto it as he watched her brush every single knot out of her silky hair.

"How've you been holding up?" Robb cut to the chase, no beating around the bush. Sansa's smile faltered for a moment before she plastered it back on.

"What do you mean, Robb?"

"You know what I mean." Robb scoffed, rolling his eyes as Sansa played innocent. Sansa pursed her lips as she set her brush down and smoothed her dress out before she stood up and turned to face Robb.

"I'm doing perfectly fine. There's nothing to be upset about." Sansa said airily. Robb shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I know you're upset about this, Sansa. You can't lie to save your life. You're an awful liar." he reminded her. Sansa's lips twitched downward into a pout and she looked away from Robb.

"I don't want him here. All he's been so far is trouble, and he's not even here yet!" Sansa burst out defensively. Robb nodded slowly.

"Well, that's because Mother doesn't like him." Robb pointed out. Sansa glared daggers at the floor.

"If Mother doesn't like him, why is she letting him come stay with us?" the redhead grumbled. Her brother shrugged.

"Maybe she's feeling charitable." Robb said with a little smirk. When Sansa didn't smile back, Robb stood up and pulled his little sister into a comforting hug. "Look... the boy's mother just died, and he's got nowhere else to go. We're his only family." Robb pulled away from Sansa and placed his hands on her shoulders, their identical eyes meeting as Robb looked directly into her sea blue eyes. Sansa chewed nervously on her bottom lip, forcing herself not to look away from her brother. "You just be nice to Jon, alright? Go easy on him. The more welcoming we all are, the easier this will all be." he advised her, giving her another quick hug before he walked towards the door. Sansa was silent until Robb left the room, her bright eyes thoughtful. 

The eldest Stark boy spent the remainder of the time they had until their half-brother arrived studying in silence. The entire house with thick with tension and excitement as the hour of Jon's arrival grew closer. Catelyn was growing more and more irritable as she prepared for dinner, slamming dishes around and muttering angrily to herself. Ned had begged her to be kind, but Robb knew his mother far too well. She would not be afraid to show her distaste. Robb was focused on the history of medieval punishments, such as beheadings and what not when Bran's eager yell sounded through the house. "Hey, I think he's here!" Bran called as  he looked away from the window he was staring out of. Robb shut his book and stood up to go to the main foyer. Sure enough, there was a heavy knock on the front door just a moment later. Without waiting for permission Bran ran to the front door and hastily threw it open, grinning up at his new brother. "Yeah, you must be him. Mom, Dad, he's here!" Bran shouted enthusiastically as he ran to get Catelyn from the kitchen.

"Robb, call your sisters in, would you? They're on the back patio I'm pretty sure." Ned's voice came from the study as he got up. Robb nodded and went to go call in the two girls. Arya was of course playing with the dogs while Sansa worked on another stitching piece, basking in the sunlight.

"Girls, Father wants you both inside. Jon's here." Robb informed them. Arya let out an excited whoop and ran for the house. She was covered in dirt and Robb had to stop her to help brush her off a bit, although the dirt on her clothes remained. The girl was always a mess. Sansa followed after, looking nervous and rather unenthusiastic.  Robb followed after his sister back to the main foyer where he had his father speaking to the stranger. Robb took a deep breath and came into the foyer, getting his first look at his half-brother for the first time.

As soon as Robb laid eyes on Jon, it was like his heart had stopped. His mouth went dry and Robb struggled to hide the surprise. A well kept secret Robb had from everyone was his minor inclination towards men. Robb had been with only one other boy, and he loved women, but he couldn't help his reaction to the sight of Jon Snow. He was utterly beautiful. His eyes were the exact shade of gray as their father's, and the two looked rather similar. Jon's face was softer than his father's. His hair was pitch black and made him appear even paler than he truly was. It was curly, something Robb was sure the boy got from his mother. He had a light amount of scruff on his jaw, and he looked older than his years. He looked like he could be twenty or something. He was dressed in a red shirt that Robb could see outlining the muscles on his chest. He was wearing a leather jacket over with a pair of worn jeans and beat up sneakers. Robb couldn't tear his gaze away from Jon's full lips, his long eyelashes, or anything really. Robb's mouth was dry as the desert and he felt like the air had been punched out of him. Then his father's voice interrupted his thoughts, ruining the perfect moment where Jon's eyes met his and a slight smile twitched onto those perfect lips.

"Robb, this is your brother, Jon Snow."

_Fuck..._


End file.
